Tis the Season, Chapter 2
by Lorien-Eve
Summary: It’s Christmas, and Harry’s alone. He gets invited to the Burrow, but he doesn’t want to see Ron. Remus shows Harry what’s really important.


Harry halted on almost every step leading up to Percy's room. He knew Ron was in there, and the thought of facing him made Harry's stomach tighten. Ron had seemed apologetic tonight, but Harry was perfectly aware that he'd acted like a complete prat, and he wouldn't blame Ron if he didn't want to talk to him.   
  
It was a strange feeling, but all of a sudden, Harry really worried about whether or not Ron would want him back. It had been Harry all this time who had been pushing Ron away, wanting nothing to do with him. What if Ron had finally had enough, and wanted Harry out of his life? That thought scared Harry the most.   
  
After his talk with Remus, Harry realized that he wasn't the person that he wanted to be without Ron. Ron brought out the very best in him, and made him like himself. The other guys he'd slept with had only been with him to say they had scored with Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World and Star Player for Puddlemere United. But Ron was different.   
  
Ron had loved Harry when he was eleven, and scared and worried that he wouldn't fit in this new world. He had loved Harry when he was twelve and scared of himself; scared that he had some powers he didn't know about. He had loved Harry when he was an awkward 13-year-old, trying to find his own identity in a world that wanted to fit him into a nice, neat, little mold. Despite their fight, Ron had still loved him as a 14-year-old who wanted to convince everyone that he wasn't out for attention and glory. Ron had also loved him as an angry 15-year-old, who questioned everything he'd ever thought was secure and honest. Then at sixteen, when Harry had finally broken down and admitted that he couldn't take everything upon himself, Ron loved him just as much as he had that first day on the Hogwarts Express. He had loved Harry on good days and bad days, and moody days and happy days. Ron had loved him no matter what, and Harry wanted all of that back again. He was tired of trying to get by on his own, just going through the paces everyday, and hoping that when he woke up, somehow, some way, something would've changed.  
  
Harry crept towards Percy's room. The door was open, but only an inch or two. He stopped once more and rested his head against the wall, waiting for his courage to build up. Then he pushed the door open slowly and snuck in quietly.  
  
Percy was in his bed, sleeping soundly, no doubt, with his mouth open and his sheets twisted around him. Ron was lying in a makeshift bed on the floor, facing the opposite way.  
  
Harry knelt down beside Ron and spoke his name softly. Ron turned abruptly.  
  
"I didn't mean to wake you," Harry whispered, glancing over at Percy to make sure that he was still asleep.  
  
"I was already awake," Ron said. He sniffed, and his voice sounded heavy.  
  
"I." Harry started, "I wanted to talk to you." Ron remained silent. Seconds passed, and Harry spoke again.  
  
"I'm sorry about tonight. I acted like an arse." He couldn't believe that he was the one apologizing. But he felt like he needed to, and it felt right.  
  
"No, you didn't," Ron answered softly. "You had every right to treat me the way you did."  
  
"No, I didn't. I should have talked to you instead of pushing you away. I should have talked to you long ago. I was just so hurt, I didn't know how to deal with it."  
  
The covers rustled, and Ron sat up.   
  
"Harry, listen, it's ok. I don't blame you. I was the one who messed up."  
  
"I'm not mad anymore," Harry told him. "I just need to understand. Why did you do it?"  
  
Ron bit his lip. He looked down at Harry's hands and answered, "I was lonely. You were gone a lot. I missed you, and I wanted you there with me. But since you couldn't be, I thought I could find someone who could. Just until you got back home."  
  
"If you would've only told me this before."  
  
"I wanted to, I really did. But you always wanted to play professional Quidditch. You seemed so happy. I didn't want to ruin that for you."  
  
"Tell me how many others there were," Harry said sternly. "I'm not mad, I just need to know."  
  
"There was only that one," Ron answered quickly. "And it was the first time. I met him earlier that day, after sleeping alone for almost a week since you'd left, and he seemed interested, so I asked him to come home with me."   
  
Ron spoke slowly that time, and had to force each word out of his mouth. "He wasn't you.he didn't feel like you at all.and I instantly regretted the whole thing. His mouth was strange, and his hands didn't feel right. But he was a warm body, and I though that I could convince myself he was you."  
  
Harry looked away. He had wanted to know what happened, but Ron was offering more details than he had been prepared for. It bothered him more than he wanted to let on.  
  
"Please, Harry, don't be mad," Ron said desperately. "You said you wanted to know."  
  
Harry was still quiet. He needed to let it all sink in. It was hard, but he could almost understand were Ron was coming from.  
  
Ron moved his hand tentatively to Harry's, and when Harry didn't jerk away, he increased the hold.  
  
"I've missed you," Harry confessed at last.   
  
Ron's hand was warm and familiar, and up until now, Harry hadn't realized how much he'd missed his touch.  
  
Ron's heart jumped and his pulse quickened.   
  
"I've missed you so much," he answered back, releasing the breath that he had been holding. He leaned forward.   
  
The kiss came like a stab in Harry's chest. It pierced him, and he thought back to all the faceless lovers he'd had, and how, try as he might, none of them were what he had been looking for. Harry reached out to touch Ron's face, making sure he was real. Ron's mouth was just as warm and cautious and needy as it had been the first time Harry kissed him. Harry's mind flashed back to that summer night, eight years ago, when they were laying in Ron's bed, unable to sleep.  
  
He forced Ron back down to the bed with his mouth, never once losing contact. He ran his hands down Ron's sides, and noticed that they felt the same way he remembered them. Ron was slow on the uptake, but at last he wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and pulled him closer. Harry still tasted the same way Ron remembered him, too, the same way he tasted in the dreams that Ron had almost nightly. He felt a joy, starting in his stomach, and moving its way through his lungs and up to his throat. He would have shouted, had he not been afraid of waking Percy.  
  
Harry broke away to catch his breath. He laid his face against Ron's neck. He felt Ron's pulse through his lips.  
  
"Want to move to your room?" Harry asked him in a low voice.  
  
Ron started. It wasn't that he wasn't ready for this, it was just that he hadn't expected it.   
  
"Sure," he croaked.  
  
Harry stood and grabbed Ron's hand to help him up. He didn't let go even after Ron was standing. He pulled Ron towards him and kissed him deeply, before turning and leading him out of the room.   
  
Having Ron so close was something that Harry missed desperately, and he wasn't going to give it up. They stopped at least seven times on the way to Ron's room to kiss and pull and touch.  
  
Harry walked Ron backwards into his own room, and shut the door with his foot. His fingers were grasping Ron's hair while his tongue fought in Ron's mouth. Ron's arms were wrapped tightly around Harry's waist, his mouth entirely accepting Harry's tongue. The long forgotten closeness washed over Harry like a sudden awareness, and he had to stop to catch his bearings.  
  
"I can't believe what I've missed out on," he said.  
  
"It's ok," Ron breathed against his lips. "We've got all night to make up for it."  
  
Harry kissed Ron again, this time more desperate and searching. Searching for the comfort and protection that he had lost. Searching for himself, and the person he knew he could be. They maneuvered clumsily to the bed, not wanting to break the contact on any part of their bodies. Ron hit the bed first, and Harry fell gracelessly on top of him.   
  
Now, Harry knew he would've never been able to sleep in this bed without Ron. He could still smell his scent on the sheets, but with Ron under him, it became almost overwhelming. It was warm and comfortable and mind- numbingly familiar.  
  
Quietly, Harry removed Ron's shirt, and placed a kiss on his chest, next to his nipple. Another kiss came next to the first, and then so many kisses after that, Ron lost count. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak. He wanted to tell Harry everything he was feeling, but all he could do was moan helplessly.  
  
Harry's method changed abruptly. He slowed down and gave up the desperate kisses. He parted his lips slightly, letting his warm breath tickle Ron's skin. All his fear was gone now. He had found what he wanted, and he wasn't giving it up again. Harry took his time; there were no more hurries. He kissed Ron again, easy at first. Then he plunged his tongue in wantonly, trying to taste all of Ron he could find. He broke away and returned to Ron's chest. It was heated and firm, and Harry ran his hands down it, feeling the lines and curves. His lips were all over it, in a rotation of licking and sucking and chastely kissing.   
  
Harry's mouth followed his hands downwards, leaving behind a tickling train that was quickly erased by the wetness of his mouth. He rested one hand on Ron's stomach, and used the other to untie the string on Ron's pajamas.  
  
Ron closed his eyes, and felt the warmness of Harry's lips gently nibbling at the inside of his thighs. The sensation caused Ron to writhe and twitch, but Harry's hands were on either side of his hips, holding him down.  
  
Harry stopped long enough to unbutton his own pajamas and throw them on the floor. He found Ron's mouth again quickly. He pulled at fistfuls of Ron's hair, exposing his throat, and attacking it with fervor. Ron moaned, and Harry could feel the vibrations through his lips.  
  
"Get on top," Harry whispered against Ron's neck.  
  
"What?" asked Ron, dazed.   
  
He had gotten lost the moment Harry laid down over him, and it took him a minute to comprehend that Harry was speaking.  
  
"Get on top," Harry repeated, pushing himself off of Ron and laying down next to him.  
  
Ron was still stunned, but he moved around slowly until he was on top of Harry. Harry was acutely aware of every point where Ron's body touched his. It was Ron's body, smooth and hot, slightly wet and deliciously strong. He felt a wave of warmness wash over him, a kind of heat that he hadn't felt in a long time. Ron's erection brushed against his, making Harry buck his stomach suddenly. Ron's breathing was loud, so loud that Harry couldn't help but moan when Ron's mouth found his neck and began sucking randomly. Harry felt he could've come right then, but when he felt Ron's arousal once again, it was a reminder that there was a lot left for him to do before he climaxed.  
  
Ron took Harry's hands in his and interlaced their fingers, moving both their arms up and over Harry's head. Ron rocked his hips again, and Harry's whole body twisted helplessly under him. Ron kissed him, fiercely, relishing the warmth and softness of Harry's mouth. Then his face disappeared. Harry saw his head sinking lower, around Harry's stomach, making him shiver with delight. His mouth made Harry's stomach wet, and he followed the line of hair down to his sticky erection. Harry heard a deep groan just before Ron took him into his mouth. It was so warm and so soft that it was driving Harry crazy. Ron placed his tongue flat against Harry's erection, and licked slowly from root to head, over and over until all Harry could do was thrash beneath him. Ron pulled away again and Harry could see his eyes once more. His gazed was fixed on Harry's, his lips just barely open, and Harry could read the sentiment on his face. The reserve was gone. They weren't holding back anything anymore.  
  
Ron kissed him again, but it was different somehow; it was something more than unrestrained passion, something more tangible. Harry utterly and completely lost track of his surroundings, and they kissed themselves senseless until Ron dropped his head to Harry's shoulder.  
  
"I love you," Ron stated plainly.  
  
Harry moved his lips, trying to say that he loved Ron too, but his body was preoccupied, and everything else was blocked out.  
  
Ron positioned himself between Harry's legs.  
  
"Can I?" Ron asked him carefully.   
  
Harry nodded.  
  
This was so much more than Ron had expected. If Harry had been able to stay in the same room with him without a pained expression on his face, Ron would've thought the evening had been successful. Now, lying naked in bed with Harry, he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want Harry to wake up in the morning and think that he had used Harry's vulnerability to his advantage.  
  
Ron gripped Harry's shoulders and pressed, slowly but firmly, down in to him. Harry bit his lip, worried because there had been no preparation, but there was no pain when Ron pushed. Harry almost closed his eyes, but the look on Ron's face was something he didn't want to miss or forget. It was love, powerful and all consuming. It was everything that Harry had missed, and everything he had been looking for. Ron slowly let his breath escape as he sank deeper into Harry.  
  
It was almost too much for Harry to stand, feeling Ron inside him after all this time. He was fascinated by Ron, even though he had seen his face enough times to visualize him with his eyes closed. Harry moaned louder as Ron's thrusts hit a different spot. Ron did it again and again, and Harry couldn't think anymore. He rolled his head from side to side. It was so intense that Harry clung to him, scared of losing control if he let go. Ron kissed him passionately and withdrew almost completely out of him. Harry felt the exit like a void. Ron pulled away, looking down on Harry. Ron thrust roughly back into him, hitting all those spots that Harry had forgotten about until now. He plunged again and again, each time faster and more intense than the last. Ron moaned louder as he moved in and out, making Harry's back arch a foot off the bed.  
  
Harry was screaming over and over. It was more incredible than he remembered it. Ron's body was melting against his, running into his pores and filling him with a feeling he never thought he'd have again. Harry pulled Ron down on him, wanting to feel him. He held Ron tight and thrust upwards, driving Ron as deep as he could go. Ron kissed him, but Harry couldn't form his lips, couldn't form a sound with his voice, and couldn't stop his body from flailing madly. Harry's frame clenched, and Ron came. Harry felt it, and he grabbed deeply into the sheets. He felt the sky plummet, and stop. It plummeted again, but stopped once more. And at last, the whole universe came crashing down around him, breaking into a million tiny pieces. Ron came again and again. A warm fluid filled Harry, and he came in that second. It plastered his stomach, and splattered all the way to his chin. Ron collapsed on him, smearing his own body in Harry's come.  
  
They both breathed heavily for several minutes. Ron's coincided with Harry's as they panted their way back from the orgasm.  
  
"I've missed you so much," Ron said for the second time that night.  
  
He was sweating, and his hair was drenched. It was a deep red that Harry could discern even in the semi-darkness of the room. As he gazed down at Harry, Harry saw a glistening drop run down from a strand of Ron's hair and drip on his forehead. Harry kissed him again. Ron scooted off of Harry, and lay next to him with his arm draped over his chest. Harry moved his hand slowly up and down Ron's arm. It was sweaty and sticky and sustaining. Harry turned to face him, and snuggled into his neck. Ron wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's shoulders, and they both fell asleep.  
  
****  
  
Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George burst into Percy's room early the next morning.  
  
"Up, Perce!" Fred yelled. "It's time to see what you bought me with all that money you're making at the Ministry."  
  
Percy rolled over sleepily. "What makes you think I got you anything?" he grumbled.  
  
"Because I'm your brother, and you love me," Fred informed him.  
  
He walked over and grabbed Percy's mattress tightly. He started shaking it, causing Percy to jostle up and down.  
  
"Enough already!" he screamed. "I'm up!"   
  
He disentangled himself from his sheets and stood up, straightening his pajama top importantly.  
  
"Hey, where's Ron?" Charlie asked, noticing for the first time that Ron's bed was empty.  
  
"Dunno," Percy shrugged. "He was here when I went to bed. He got here before I did, in fact."  
  
They left the room in a huddle, headed down the hallway to Ron's room to wake Harry up. Bill opened the door first.  
  
"Harry, get--"  
  
But his wake-up call was cut short.  
  
There, in a mass of arms and legs, were Harry and Ron, both completely naked and clearly asleep.  
  
Bill looked at Charlie, and Charlie looked at Fred, and Fred looked at George, and George looked at Percy, and Percy looked back at Bill.  
  
"Think we'll let them sleep," they all said at once.  
  
Bill closed the door quietly, and they went downstairs.  
  
****  
  
A skinny beam of sunlight came through the space between the curtains, landing right in Harry's eyes. He went to throw his arm over his face. His arm, though, seemed to be pinned down, and he opened his eyes to see what was in the way. It was Ron. His eyes were closed lightly and his face was just inches from Harry's.   
  
Memories of the previous night came rushing back to Harry, and he couldn't help himself when he felt his mouth curl into a grin. He leaned in slowly and pressed a light kiss on Ron's half-opened mouth. Ron slept on, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry was lying next to him, stark naked, and that he had just kissed him.   
  
That's just like Ron, Harry thought to himself with a smile. He could sleep through anything. Harry kissed him again, this time applying more pressure. Ron groaned, and opened his eyes slowly.  
  
"Happy Christmas, love," Harry spoke softly into his mouth.  
  
Ron's eyes crinkled into a smile.   
  
"Happy Christmas, yourself," he said.  
  
Ron felt a happiness creeping up from his toes and spreading all through him. He had slept alone for so long, but Harry was here now, lying right next to him. His warmth was a consolation, and his body was so agreeable. He reached over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. It felt cool, and he reached down to grab a blanket.  
  
"I wasn't cold, you know," Harry said teasingly.  
  
"Well, you never know. Blankets are always useful," Ron said playfully.   
  
He threw the blanket around both of them and hugged Harry tightly to him.  
  
"You think they're missing us downstairs?" Harry asked.  
  
"Nah," Ron said. "When neither one of us shows up, they'll know where we are."  
  
"Shouldn't we go down, though? So they don't think we're being unsociable?"  
  
"We can. If you want to," Ron shrugged half-heartedly.  
  
"Come on, let's go," Harry said, kissing Ron on the cheek.  
  
They reluctantly left the snug atmosphere of the bed, and scavenged around on the floor for their discarded clothing.  
  
"It's a shame, really," Ron said vaguely.  
  
"What's a shame?" Harry inquired.  
  
"That we have to get out of bed and get dressed at all," Ron enlightened him.  
  
Harry laughed and walked over to grab Ron's hand. "I promise, as soon as we get home, we'll spend an entire week in bed with absolutely no clothes."  
  
Ron looked pensive. "You mean you want me to come back home?"  
  
"Of course I do!" Harry said. "It's been so empty since you left, I couldn't possibly go back there by myself."  
  
Before Harry could brace himself, Ron grabbed him and crushed his mouth with an ardent kiss. He had been so miserable at the Burrow since Harry had kicked him out. The thought of going back to the place where he and Harry had lived all those years sent sparks all over him.  
  
"I want you back, Ron," Harry reassured him.   
  
Ron beamed at the sincerity in Harry's voice.  
  
"Downstairs?" Harry asked.  
  
"Why not?" Ron answered. He twined his fingers tightly with Harry's, and they left the room.  
  
****  
  
Ron entered the living room with Harry in tow. He could tell in a glance that they had missed the present-opening ceremony. There were discarded and forgotten piles of cheerily decorated paper thrown in all corners of the room.  
  
"Ron!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, "We wondered where you'd gotten off to."   
  
She looked to Harry and saw his hand being held firmly by Ron's. "But I see that you're alright now," she finished.  
  
"I'm more than alright, Mum," Ron told her, with a big smile on his face.  
  
"You gave us quite a start this morning," George laughed.  
  
"Huh?" Ron asked confusedly.  
  
"We came to wake Harry up," Fred started.  
  
"And we saw you there with him," Charlie continued.  
  
"And both of you were as naked as the day you were born," Bill added.  
  
"And we decided that it was best to let you sleep," Percy finished.  
  
Ron and Harry blushed madly. They didn't feel this conversation was appropriate with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley present.  
  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Yes, well, as we're all up now, who wants breakfast?"  
  
There was a loud chorus of "I do!" as the rest of the Weasleys dislodged themselves from the colorful mounds of paper and presents and went into the kitchen.  
  
Ron looked around the living room and bit his lip.  
  
"I didn't get you anything," he said slowly.  
  
Harry laughed. "That's ok, I didn't get you anything, either."  
  
"Hey, look," Ron said suddenly, pointing up to the ceiling.  
  
Harry's eyes followed Ron's arm upwards. There was a prickly green sprig of mistletoe hanging crookedly down from the tarnished light fixture directly above them.  
  
"It's a tradition, you know," he said to Harry.  
  
"Far be it from us to go against tradition," Harry said as he grabbed Ron by the shirt and pulled him close.  
  
He stuck out his tongue to run over Ron's lips before closing his mouth eagerly over his. Ron moaned and lifted his arms to drape them over Harry's shoulders.  
  
Harry was reminded of all the fun he and Ron had with mistletoe during their previous Christmases together. Each year, they hung stems of it above their bed, over the kitchen table, and down from every doorway in the house. Not that they needed any kind of excuse to kiss each other senselessly, but it turned into a kind of game. They tried to see how many times one could catch the other by surprise. Ron almost always won. He would stand by nonchalantly, just waiting for Harry to walk by. Then he'd ambush him with a flurry of arms and hands and lips. It made for interesting afternoons, and there was more than one time that they were late for prior engagements. Sometimes, they never made it to the appointment at all.  
  
"Want to go to breakfast?" Ron asked when his lips moved away from Harry's.  
  
Harry smiled and nodded, and allowed Ron to lead him into the kitchen.  
  
The table was once again laden with so much food that Harry had to look over it twice to make sure he didn't miss anything.  
  
Although the scene was the same as it was last night, it was completely different to Harry. His anger and hurt were gone, and he was happier than he had been in a long time. He took a chair, this time right next to Ron, and helped himself to bacon, eggs, biscuits, sausage, and hash browns.  
  
"Where's Professor Lupin?" he asked suddenly, noticing for the first time that he hadn't seen him all morning.  
  
"He left late last night," Mr. Weasley told him sadly. "There was a note in his room this morning. He said something came up, but I think being here was too much for him. He rarely leaves the house now, you know. Being around all of us must've been a bit overwhelming."  
  
Harry's heart fell. While his situation with Ron had been different, he fully empathized with what Remus was going through. He wanted to tell him that he had taken his well-advised suggestion in not continuing to make a mistake where Ron was concerned. Harry also wanted to be a support for Remus. He missed Sirius almost as much as Remus did. Harry had Ron again, but Remus didn't have anyone. Harry made a mental note to be more consistent in his correspondence with Remus.  
  
"You haven't opened your presents yet, Harry," Fred said, inadvertently breaking Harry's musings.  
  
Presents were actually the last thing on Harry's mind.  
  
"That's ok," he said, throwing an affectionate look in Ron's direction, "I've been doing more important things."  
  
"Or people," George coughed under his breath.  
  
"Does this mean you'll be moving out?" Mrs. Weasley asked Ron.  
  
"Yeah, Harry said he wants me to come back home," he answered, smiling broadly.  
  
"I've gotten quite accustomed to having you around again," Mrs. Weasley said, "but I must say, I couldn't be happier for the two of you." She beamed down at them.  
  
Harry didn't say much during the rest of the meal. He was too busy enjoying Ron, and thinking about how it would feel like home again once Ron moved back in.  
  
"Mind if Harry and I leave early?" Ron asked at last, talking through a bite of potatoes.  
  
"Not at all, dear," Mrs. Weasley said.  
  
Ron shoved a last bite into his mouth. He rose from the table, and grabbed Harry by the hand, causing him to drop his fork with a clatter.  
  
"I've got some packing to do," he explained hurriedly.  
  
Harry followed him upstairs and back into his bedroom. Ron began opening drawers and tossing jeans, t-shirts, and jumpers randomly onto his bed. Harry stood back and watched, amused, as Ron pulled a tattered and patched suitcase out from under his bed, and began hastily stuffing the clothes in.  
  
"You're getting those awfully wrinkled," Harry said good-naturedly.  
  
Ron shrugged. He never worried much about his appearance. "They were already wrinkled."  
  
The pile was so large that Harry didn't think the suitcase would close.  
  
Sure enough, Ron began bouncing up and down on the bed, trying to shut it. He looked so funny, with his hair flying around, and his face flushed and screwed up in determination that Harry couldn't help but laugh. Ron didn't hear him at first, amid the squeaks from the mattress and the grumbles and grunts coming from his own throat. When Ron stopped to catch his breath, though, he looked over and saw Harry almost doubled-over with laughter.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asked with a smile on his face.  
  
"You are," Harry choked out between laughs.  
  
"Think I'm funny, do you?" Ron said in mock indignation.  
  
Harry nodded his head. Ron jumped up from the suitcase, and tackled Harry before he even realized it. He assailed Harry's neck furiously with his lips, tickling him, and causing him to giggle madly. Harry made a valiant effort to pull away, but Ron was the stronger of the two, and Harry's laughter took away most of his strength. At last Ron stopped to catch his breath, but he kept a firm hold on Harry. They stood there panting heavily, their chests heaving up and down.  
  
"This has turned out to be a good Christmas after all," Harry said between breaths.  
  
"You're wrong. This has turned out to be a great Christmas," Ron said before he leaned in and kissed Harry. 


End file.
